


Interlude

by coalitiongirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coalitiongirl/pseuds/coalitiongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Immediately following Think Lovely Thoughts, Regina kisses Emma to calm her. That's basically it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Just so you're aware, there is some description of a panic attack below. This was mostly a writing exercise that was _supposed_ to just be a kiss, but it expanded a bit in the process.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that Emma reacts the way she does, but Regina is taken aback regardless. She’s spent so long looking to Emma to be the leader of the group, the one unifying factor that keeps them all together and motivated, that it’s easy to forget that Emma is just as unsteady as she is, just as easily staggered by their son’s actions. That Emma has never made connections before like the ones she has here, and she’s still so new to that kind of hollowing loss that it leaves her helpless.

 

She remembers Emma’s eyes when Henry had last been in danger, remembers desperation and terror and an arm at her throat (hot breath against her face and she’d been torn by the same fear and unexpected arousal, and hadn’t even had the capacity to entertain the realization that Emma might kill her in that hospital closet, might finally end this wretched vengeance for good), and perhaps it’s not unexpected at all that Emma is suddenly crouched over in a corner, vomiting just a few feet away from Henry’s lifeless body. Regina is struggling to consider their next actions- because Pan hasn’t taken Henry away yet, there must be some time for the heart to bond and the magic to seep from it if they can only find him- but the only other person in the universe she trusts is helpless, panicking, panting and choking and gasping out strangled sobs and utterly useless.

 

Rumpel’s spawn (has he been here the whole time? She doesn’t remember his presence on the boat, or in the room where they’d made magic, or at the end with Henry. Well. His presence is far more unwarranted than anyone else’s here, even the two idiots and Hook, and she might have just willfully ignored him) is crouching on the floor beside Emma, holding out a flask of water that Emma can’t even look up to retrieve, and now _he’s_ looking to Regina as though she holds the answers, as though this is her mess to repair too (there aren’t many messes these days that aren’t hers, if you trace them back far enough, but she finds that it’s only a distraction to dwell on that in Neverland).

 

Regina exhales an irritated sigh and snatches the flask from him. “Get up. Go make yourself useful and find your father.” Baelfire stares at her, his eyes blank and desperate as though he’s lost someone too, and that infuriates her more than she can afford right now. “Get out!” she snaps, and he scurries away, leaving her alone with a hyperventilating woman and the empty body of her son.

 

She might have killed the man not long ago out of nothing more than frustration, and she admires her own restraint as she crouches back down to lay her hand over Henry’s heart. He’d be proud of her, and that matters more than anything else, anything except retrieving his heart.

 

For that she needs Emma with her, because if there’s one thing she’s learned since this irritating, impossible (intriguing, irresistible) woman has shown up on her doorstep, it’s that they’re at their best when they’re together. And they’ll save their son together.

 

It’s what they do.

 

“Miss Swan!” she commands, and her voice is raw with pain and fear and not impressive at all, but it’s enough for Emma to jerk for a moment before she’s back on the floor on her hands and knees, gasping for breath again.

 

This won’t do, and they don’t have _time_ , not for a breakdown over something that can still be changed. She can feel hot tears on her own face, escaping her eyes as she refuses to let them conquer her, and it’s more tempting than ever to join her son and his other mother on the floor and surrender to grief, to accept this new horror and stop fighting all the time.

 

She’s so tired of fighting.

 

But fighting for the things she needs most is all she’s ever had and fighting for Henry isn’t negotiable, so in a moment she’s yanking Emma to her feet, shoving her against the mountain of skulls beneath the hourglass and holding her own arm to Emma’s throat, sticking the flask into the other woman’s mouth. “Drink,” she orders, and Emma’s frightened eyes meet hers for a moment as she tries to swallow. Her throat is still closed and the water comes shooting out again, too quickly for Regina to dodge it, and now they’re both wet and cold and Henry is still beside them, running out of time, and Regina hisses, “Emma. Drink now!” and this time Emma keeps some of it down.

 

The blonde can’t stand upright, can’t stop shaking and thrashing with the effects of her panic attack, and Regina is so close that she can forget about the smell of vomit and the water matting her blazer down and the little boy who needs their help and focus on Emma alone, concentrate on the woman she needs right now.

 

She initiates the kiss only out of necessity, because she has no more ideas but to ride this storm with Emma herself, to distract her in the only way left to her. And Emma whimpers in response but her hand is suddenly quavering against the back of Regina’s neck instead of at her side and she’s pulling Regina closer, forcing her mouth open and deepening the kiss.

 

Regina wraps her arms around the body convulsing against her, moving with Emma as best as she can as desperate tongue and teeth and lips crash against her mouth (and this is just about calming Emma, it’s only about Emma and channeling the panic into something still and useful and _Henry_ , Henry’s life hangs in the balance and if this kiss is all that helps, so be it) and she shakes with Emma and judders like the Jolly Roger in a storm and Emma is kissing her like she’s an anchor, like every time they pull apart and connect again she’s breathing a little more, panting out breaths that don’t shudder and choke as they emerge.

                                                                                                                                         

Emma is warm against her, biting down on her lip until Regina licks the blood away and lets her tongue run across Emma’s teeth and slip into her mouth (it’s so cold, so much colder than it should be and Regina can’t flinch because this is a fantasy, a moment that could never have happened and that she wouldn’t dare to question if this is really what’s going on now, drenched in frantic grief and darkness and words she’d never say) and something settles within the body she holds in her hands, a shuddering breath and a second whimper and Emma is breathing in noiseless gasps now, soft against her lips, and the kiss-

 

-changes, and now there are calloused hands tracing the lines of her hair down along her neck, ghosting across her collarbone as she trembles (and this isn’t panic or fear, not anymore, it’s slow and undemanding and completely inappropriate right now but for Emma still clinging to her, still a live wire vibrating with uncontained emotions and she _needs_ this, needs it to find her control, to save their son together), and there’s no violence anymore, no desperation, and she closes her eyes and leans in to Emma and lets this be them, coming together in a way they’ve never ventured to before.

 

They’re both panting when they part but the wildness is gone from Emma’s eyes at last, replaced with a discomfort that Regina doesn’t dare address while they’re standing so close, their breath mingling and her arms still trailing along Emma’s waist to her hands as they pull apart. She clears her throat, and her voice emerges as a rasp. “We can still save Henry.”

 

Emma closes her eyes, and when she opens them, uncertainty is gone and replaced with the determination that makes Regina’s heart thrum with their shared resolve. “What can we do?”

 

And they move.


End file.
